Enter Gotham's Prince, Bruce Wayne
by Lopithecus
Summary: At the Gala that Lex Luthor is throwing, Clark meets Bruce Wayne. Even though he doesn't exactly make the greatest of first impressions with his question about Batman, he still finds himself following Bruce to dinner and then to his hotel room. From there, things happen that Clark wasn't exactly expecting but he can't complain at the turn of events. (Based on Batman v Superman)


**Enter Gotham's Prince, Bruce Wayne**

 **A/N: This was for the SuperBat Secret Santa and gifted to zenasu17 on Tumblr.**

 **Prompt: Batfleck and SupeCarvil! their first meeting in your imagination in BatVSupe.(as superman/batman or Brucie/Journalist Clark or mix i don't mind)**

Clark watches Bruce Wayne from across the room as he tries to be inconspicuous to the other people at the Luthor gala. Clark is here to interview a few rich people, mainly Lex Luthor who is the proud owner of Luthor Corp and the one running this party. He's been instructed to get whatever "scoop" he can even though he is an investigative reporter and not a society one. He doesn't even understand why Perry sent him here and it annoys him greatly. Clark would love to be anywhere but here.

But even so, even if he wants to just pack up his notepad and pen and leave, he can't stop watching Bruce Wayne who apparently was born into old money from a blue blooded family. How Clark had never heard of him before he has no idea since many people seem to have heard of Brucie Wayne, playboy philanthropist. Many people also seem to want to get into Bruce Wayne's pants and though Clark can definitely see the appeal — Clark's not blind, after all. Even he can see how handsome Bruce Wayne is — he doesn't understand why they throw themselves so easily at him and why he just stands there and allows it to happen. Granted, some people have offered up sex to Superman, at least the ones that don't hate Superman, but Clark is always careful to let them down gently. Bruce Wayne on the other hand seems to play right into their advances and maybe even enjoys it a little.

Clark looks down at his phone and reads the information he dug up about Bruce Wayne. It's only the minimal stuff like how his parents died when he was eight and how he does a lot of charity work. The article also comments on the man's reputation with women but says nothing about men though Clark has seen plenty of them throwing themselves at him too. Stashing his cell phone back into his pocket, Clark approaches Bruce Wayne.

As he gets closer to the billionaire who had caught Clark's eyes as soon as he arrived in his slick black car and walked onto the red carpet, he sees he was wrong before. Bruce Wayne isn't just handsome, no, even in his aging he's still down right gorgeous. Clark swallows and calls out. "Mr. Wayne." They shake hands and Clark makes a point to look Bruce Wayne in the eyes that are just as pretty as the rest of him. "Clark Kent, _Daily Planet_."

"It's nice to meet you," Bruce says, looking him up and down and Clark tries not to shuffle on his feet. Bruce is taller than him by a few inches.

"Mind if I ask you a few questions?" Clark asks, still trying to keep his eyes on Bruce's in order to not look Bruce up and down as well.

Bruce smiles easily but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Go right ahead."

"Well there's actually one question I have in particular that I am most interested in and I think you would be the perfect person to ask since you're from Gotham." Bruce's eyebrow rises in question. "What's your position on the Bat vigilante in Gotham?"

Bruce's smile immediately falls as he stares at Clark for a few seconds before one corner of his mouth twitches up into a small, amused smirk. "Whatever do you mean, Mr. Kent?"

"Well," Clark shifts a little. "Civil liberties are being trampled on in your city. People are living in fear and the Bat vigilante thinks he's above the law. Don't you think that's wrong?"

Bruce doesn't answer right away but his smirk grows. "If this is your way of making a good first impression, Mr. Kent, then you're going about it all wrong." Clark doesn't give that a reply and allows Bruce to continue. "The _Daily Planet_ criticizing those who think they're above the law is... a little hypocritical, wouldn't you say?" Clark opens his mouth to defend the paper he works for but Bruce continues, not giving any room for Clark to speak. "Considering every time your hero saves a cat out of a tree you write a puff piece editorial about an alien who could burn the whole place down."

Clark isn't sure whether he should be impressed that Bruce has kept up on news about Superman or if he should be offended. He ends up saying, "Most of the world doesn't share your opinion, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce looks away and for a minute the man seems older, more broken than first meets the eyes. "Maybe it's the Gotham City in me; we just have a bad history with freaks dressed like clowns." Bruce looks him up and down again, as if he _knows_ Clark is Superman.

Clark remembers reading about the joker, a psychopath who terrorizes Gotham and its people, killing them and thinking it all a joke. Clark doesn't know how Bruce can compare Superman to such an evil person and this time Clark decides to be offended.

He's just about to say something when the two of them are interrupted. "Boys!" They look over to see Lex Luthor standing there with a smile. He claps and motions towards Bruce. "Bruce Wayne meets Clark Kent." He claps again. "Ah, I love it. I love bringing people together." Clark looks at Bruce from the corner of his eyes but the man has all his attention on Lex. "How are we?"

Lex and Bruce shake hands and Clark doesn't miss Bruce looking annoyed. "Lex."

Lex turns to him and takes his hand. "Hi, hello, Lex, it is a pleasure to meet you." Clark gives him a small smile and squeezes his hand. "Owe, whoa." He hits him on the chest. "That is a good grip. You should not pick a fight with this person." So maybe Clark squeezed a little too tight but Lex did just interrupt a very important conversation and that interruption not only annoyed Bruce but it annoyed Clark as well.

"What do you want Lex?" Bruce asks, looking more annoyed than before and Clark wonders what kind of history these two have. Bruce is obviously much older than Lex but they still act like they know each other. Of course, that's not too surprising since they both have billions of dollars.

"Can't I come and talk to my guests, Brucie?" Lex looks unfazed from Bruce's hostile tone and stance. "I'm just coming to say hi and mingle a little."

Bruce looks to Clark again and Clark is a little startled to have Bruce's full attention once more. "I think we're done with this interview." He gives Clark a small smile before walking away. If Clark is reading him right, however, he kind of looks sad and as if he doesn't actually _want_ to be here at this party.

Lex leans into him. "Is it just me or has he become a lot more gloomy since one of his kids died?"

Clark spins around to Lex. "What? One of his kids died? How many kids does he have?" The article said nothing about kids and one of them dying.

Lex looks at him as if he grew another head. "Where have you been? Of course, he has kids. Adopted two boys. One of them, Dick Grayson, got adopted by him after the kid's parents died in an accident. The other, Jason Todd, was adopted a few years later."

"Which one died?" Clark asks him.

Lex chuckles. "I can't believe you don't know this. Anything that Bruce Wayne does or anything that happens to him ends up on the news."

Clark is getting annoyed again. "Mr. Luthor, which one died?"

"Oh, Jason Todd. Died from a... what was it?" Lex rubs his chin. "Ah, that's right! He died from an explosion. I think... I think it was an explosion from the Joker but I could be mistaken. Wasn't that long ago either. Now, Clark was it?"

Clark stops him right there, watching Bruce stand off to the side of the room. "I'm sorry Mr. Luthor, I... I have to go." Clark hurries away and approaches Bruce. "Mr. Wayne!"

Bruce turns to him and smiles as soon as he sees him. "Mr. Kent, I thought our interview was over."

"I actually have more questions... that I wanted to ask," Clark says dumbly. "But first I wanted to say that I'm sorry for the loss of your son." Once again the smile on Bruce's face disappears and he says nothing. "I didn't know that you loss him and to that Joker guy, hence your statement about clowns." Still, Bruce says nothing. "I mean, apparently I've been living under a rock this whole time because I didn't even know _you_ before now and that is practically blasphemous in journalism according to another guy I met out on that red carpet." Bruce continues to stare at him but there's finally a little quirk of his lips at the corners. "So obviously not knowing you made it so I didn't know you had adopted two sons and then one died and I just wanted you to know that..." Clark takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry for your loss." There's a full smile on Bruce's face now from Clark's rambling and it causes Clark to blush. Needing to say something to cover up his embarrassment, Clark says, "I'm sorry about the bad first impression too."

Bruce doesn't stop smiling in amusement. "Are you always this cute?"

The blush on his cheeks deepens. "Excuse me?"

"Thank you for the condolences Mr. Kent. I actually think you're the first reporter to even give them," Bruce says.

Clark pushes at his glasses, feeling the need to do something with his hands. Bruce is looking at him very intently. "Really, no else?" Bruce shakes his head in the negative. "Well that's just... wrong."

Bruce shrugs. "It's the name of the game. When you're as rich and famous as I am, no one cares about how you feel."

"I care," Clark blurts before thinking better of it.

He blushes again and Bruce chuckles. "Yes, I can see that." Silence falls between them and they just stare into each other's eyes. Soon, Bruce clears his throat. "Did you have other questions?"

"Oh," Clark exclaims. "I did, um..." He's feeling flustered from just starring at Bruce. "I..."

Bruce scratches the back of his neck and chuckles again. "What do you say; you and I get out of here and get something to eat? That way you can focus more on your questions and ask them in a more... quiet and private setting."

Clark huffs a laugh. "I almost thought you were going to proposition me sex." At that, one of Bruce's eyebrows raises. "Sure, I would be glad to get out of here, no offense."

Bruce shrugs. "It's not my party first off..." He trails off and Clark doesn't prompt him for more. "Come, follow me."

They leave the building through a back door so no one notices. Bruce then has the valet retrieve his car and as soon as he returns with it, motions for Clark to get into the passenger side seat. Bruce drives to a restaurant Clark has never been to before, mostly because of how expensive it is. "Don't you need reservations to this place?" he asks as they get out of the car.

Bruce gives him a look. "Wow, I guess you _really_ don't know me."

"Uh," Clark jogs a little to catch up to him. "Even so, Mr. Wayne, I can't afford this place."

Bruce waves it off. "Don't worry about it, I'll buy."

Clark shakes his head. "I can't have you do that." One look from Bruce, however, cuts off anymore protests.

When they get up to the podium, the guy behind it doesn't look up even when Bruce starts to talk. "I'm terribly sorry, but I don't seem to have a reservation here."

"Would you like to make one, Sir?" the guy asks, still looking down and writing something.

Bruce leans onto the podium. "No, I was hoping to get a table without one."

"I'm sorry Sir but you can't-" The guy finally looks up and his eyes go wide. "Mr. Wayne, I am so sorry. Yes, of course, you can have a table. One will be ready for you shortly."

"Thank you." The guy walks away to go make sure a table is cleared off quickly and Bruce turns to him with a smug, pleased smile. He throws his hands out in a 'So?' gesture.

"That's... impressive," Clark admits and walks up to him.

"Being well known certainly has its advantages." Bruce smiles at him. "But, of course, you didn't know how much influence I have because you didn't know me." Bruce leans a little closer and Clark blushes.

He pushes at his glasses again. "I'm not going to live that down through this whole thing am I?"

Before Bruce can respond, the podium guy comes back. "Mr. Wayne, this way please."

The guy brings the two of them to a pretty secluded booth, not many people being around. It's also next to a window in which one of them will have to sit with their back to it. Bruce opts for this position and Clark sits across from him. They study the menu in silence and order their drinks and food when asked. Clark is surprised when Bruce asks for a tea instead of something alcoholic. Clark, however, orders a soda. "Are you sure this is okay, Mr. Wayne? All that food on that menu was pretty expensive."

Bruce waves it off, sipping at his tea. "Like I said, don't worry about it. This will hardly put a dent in my bank account." Clark says nothing to this, knowing very well what kind of dent it would make to _his own_ bank account. Once their food arrives, Bruce gets back down to business. "Now, Mr. Kent, what other questions did you have for me?"

Clark bites into his food and he can't even believe how good it tastes. "Oh my gosh, this tastes really good."

Bruce chuckles. "I'm glad you like it."

"Oh," Clark almost chokes before swallowing. "I'm sorry, you asked about the other questions. Right... um..." He actually didn't have any more questions for Bruce. He just made that excuse up in order to continue talking to the man. He's not even really sure why he agreed to going out to dinner with him. "Uh..." A blush forms on his cheeks.

Bruce is smiling again with unconcealed amusement. He chuckles once more. "You're so cute." Clark's blush deepens. "And you blush a lot."

"M-Mr. Wayne I... does the press know about your orientation?" And oh, gosh, why did he ask such an offensive question?

Bruce seems unfazed by it, however. "My answer depends on whether or not you're going to put it in the paper."

Clark crosses his fingers and shows Bruce. "Just between us, I promise."

"They know about it partially," he says. "They know I flirt with men but they think that's the extent of it. They don't know that I actually do fancy other men."

"So then you're gay?" Clark asks, his curiosity making him braver.

"Bisexual actually," Bruce admits. "I still fancy women, that's not a lie." Clark nods in understanding. He learned about being bisexual himself back when he was just a teenager. Since then he's been with a few women and a couple men. None of them have been quite like Bruce though. Bruce leans onto the table and says silkily, "Tell me, Mr. Kent, do you like men too?"

Clark nods again and swallows. They've both abandon their food, too caught up in their conversation. "I like both genders as well." Bruce nods, satisfied. He then digs out his wallet, pulls out a hundred dollar bill, and stands up.

"Let's go." He motions for Clark to get up as well and then starts walking away.

Clark eyes his food longingly, knowing he's not going to be tasting something so magnificent ever again and because of the wasted money (not to mention the wasted food), sighs, and hurries to catch up to Bruce. "Mr. Wayne, where are we going?"

"Just get in the car." Bruce is holding the car door open for him.

Clark climbs in, eyeing him suspiciously. "Are you kidnapping me?" he asks playfully.

Bruce chuckles as he gets in behind the wheel. "Hardly." He then drives away from the restaurant. When they reach their destination, Clark sees that it is a hotel building. Bruce gets out and so does Clark, once again following Bruce. In the elevator, Bruce pulls out a card key, slips it into the slot, and then presses the number to what Clark can only assume is his penthouse. Why Bruce is be bringing him there, he has no idea.

The elevator doors open to a large room. "Wow, this is a nice place."

Bruce shucks his suit jacket off, draping it over the back of the couch, but keeps the vest on that was underneath. "Please, sit." He gestures to the couch and Clark complies. "Can I get you anything to drink?"

"No, thank you," Clark answers, looking at the man. Bruce's hands are in his slack's pockets and he looks contemplative. Bruce then approaches him and leans down, coming in slowly and pressing their lips together, soft and light, hands still in his pockets. When he pulls back, he straightens and Clark looks at him stunned. "What... what was that for?"

"Do you not want to?" Bruce asks.

"That's... that's a bit presumptuous, don't you think?" Clark says.

Bruce smirks wryly. "Well?"

Clark swallows hard and looks Bruce up his body. It is definitely tempting. "I don't... I don't know, I mean... I..."

Bruce's smile widens. He's standing in front of Clark and Clark has to bend his neck to look at him. "Clark, I'm going to kiss you again and you have two options." Clark opens his mouth to say something but Bruce trudges on. "You can either kiss me back and we'll have sex or you can pull away and leave."

Clark chuckles nervously. "So you are propositioning me sex."

Bruce doesn't say anything and instead leans down, hands still in his pocket, and kisses him on the mouth. Clark sucks in a breath that leaves his mouth open for Bruce to dip his tongue in. Clark's eyes fall half lidded at the kiss and then fully close as he begins to kiss Bruce back, bringing a hand up to the back of Bruce's neck. At Clark's touch, something in Bruce seems to snap because he's now touching Clark back and trying to unbutton Clark's button up as fast as possible. Clark moves his hands to do the same, the kiss becoming sloppy at their divided attention.

Bruce manages to remove Clark of his jacket and button up before Clark can of his and he pulls Clark up and off the couch by the shoulders. This is moving very fast for Clark and though it's not the first time he's ever had sex or fast sex, this feels different somehow. It almost feels like Bruce is trying to pour something into it, like some kind of need or desperation that has nothing to do with sex and pleasure. "Bedroom," Bruce whispers and allows Bruce to pull him along until they reach the designated room. Bruce pushes him down onto the bed and climbs on top of him, taking the rest of his shirts off along the way.

Clark squirms under him as Bruce starts to unbuckle Clark's belt. This is another thing that isn't a first. He's been both a "top" and "bottom" when it comes to having sex with men and he finds he really enjoys both, so he can totally accept Bruce fucking him instead of the other way around. Looking up at Bruce now, it certainly looks like that is what Bruce is going to do. Though he has to admit, he would have loved to have been able to see how Bruce feels around him. Clark's eyes shift down to Bruce's covered crotch and he sees the strain of the fabric. Yeah, he'll probably enjoy how Bruce feels in him as well.

Bruce pulls down Clark's pants, leaving his boxers on, and throws them onto the floor. Clark reaches up to start taking off Bruce's own pants but Bruce swats his hands away. "No, I'll do it."

Okay, so he likes to be in control. Clark can work with that. He watches as Bruce pulls his pants down, also leaving his boxers on, and adding the clothing article to Clark's on the floor. Bruce smiles wryly again and straddles his thighs. He rolls his hips and both their members rub together, the fabric of their underwear causing sweet friction. Clark groans but Bruce makes no sound. Instead the man leans forward and grips Clark's shoulders for purchase, rolling his hips again. Clark pants, "You going to fuck me?"

Bruce doesn't say anything, stopping all movement in order to stare at him. For a minute Clark wonders if he was surprised by his swearing but Bruce can't possibly know that normally he doesn't. At least, he doesn't outside of situations like this. Soon, Bruce's mouth forms into a smirk and he leans back, hooking his fingers in Clark's boxers. He pulls them down, finally releasing Clark's hard on from the constraining enclosure, and then removes his own. Gosh, Bruce is glorious.

Clark licks his lips and Bruce leans down again to kiss him, licking into his mouth. Clark doesn't think he's ever kissed someone this good with their mouth before. At least he can't remember making out with anyone this skilled in the art of kissing and he has a pretty good memory. "God, you're beautiful," Bruce murmurs against his lips and Clark pulls him by the back of the neck into another tongue filled kiss.

Clark hums against him and pulls away finally. "So are you."

Bruce chuckles, sounding almost disbelieving and it makes Clark wonder about Bruce's self-esteem. Does he think well of himself or does he think poorly of himself? Is it because of his age or something entirely different? Clark isn't sure and he doesn't feel like it's his place to ask. Instead he wiggles some more, trying to give Bruce the hint to move this along, wanting to finally be filled by him. "Hmm, anxious aren't we?" Bruce chuckles again and reaches over to the bedside table. He opens the drawer and retrieves a tube. Clark knows exactly what it is as soon as he sees it. "But you see Mr. Kent-"

"Keep calling me Clark," Clark says, interrupting him. Bruce raises an eyebrow. "You said Clark before and I think it'll be a little awkward saying Mr. Kent and Mr. Wayne the whole time." Bruce stares at him, the tube of lube still in his hands, just sitting there on Clark's thighs. He doesn't move, he doesn't say something, he doesn't do anything. He scrutinizes Clark and Clark tries to not fidget under the gaze. "I guess... only if you want to," Clark adds after the silence becomes unbearable.

The grin that suddenly appears on Bruce's face is completely mischievous. "But you see _Clark_ ," Bruce continues. "I think you're going to be pleasantly surprised."

Not understanding what Bruce means, he just lies there watching him as he pops open the cap on the lube and squeezes some out onto his fingers. Bruce rubs the lube along his fingers and Clark prepares himself for what is about to come but he's taken by surprise when Bruce reaches behind his own body and penetrates one of his fingers into himself. Clark's jaw drops at the same time Bruce groans, Bruce's face scrunching up. "But... I thought..."

Bruce cracks an eye open. He's panting and a sheen of sweat is starting to shine on his skin. "Do you want me to instead of this?"

Clark isn't sure which he wants anymore. He just wants all of Bruce. "No, I want this," he settles on. Maybe, if there is a next time, they can do it the other way.

"Good." Bruce sticks another finger into himself and Clark can't believe he's feeling envious of those fingers. He wishes he was the one doing that to Bruce.

All thought goes flying out of his head when he feels wet warmth engulfing the head of his cock. "Oh, gosh!" He arches slightly and has to remind himself not to thrust in fear of hurting Bruce. Clark looks down and watches as his member disappears into Bruce's skillful mouth and Bruce's fingers also disappearing into his body. It's the hottest thing Clark has ever seen. There's a slight flush tinting Bruce's flesh and Clark is just now realizing Bruce had added a third finger.

Bruce pulls off of Clark's cock and pulls his fingers out of him, shimmying up Clark's body to straddle his waist. He reaches over and back into the open drawer of the side table, producing a condom. Bruce opens it with his teeth and rolls it onto Clark. "Ready?" Clark nods. He should have suspected Bruce would ride him.

Bruce reaches back and grabs a hold of Clark, lining him up with his entrance. Then, before Clark knows it, he's sinking onto his length. Clark has to grit his teeth with a hiss at the feeling and Bruce moans. Bruce sinks all the way down, his own jaw clenched. Clark hopes he's not hurting himself. When all the way down, Bruce shudders, placing both hands flat on Clark's chest. Clark rubs along Bruce's side, along his ribs and down to his hips, trying to ease and relax his tautness. "Easy," he says. Clark doesn't personally know how painful it can be as he can't be hurt even by something like this, but he has heard that it can be very painful if not done correctly or without enough preparation. Clark always makes sure whoever he is with, male or female, is properly prepared and ready, after all, if anyone on this planet is an expert at being careful, it's him. Bruce is shivering on top of him and swaying back and forth a little. Clark holds his hips still to keep him steady as Clark can tell Bruce isn't trying to move that part of him quite yet. The swaying is something different, something to do with either the pain of being penetrated or something else. Clark comes to the conclusion that this man is _very_ hard to read. "Easy now, there's no rush."

Bruce huffs at his words and opens his eyes but keeps them half lidded. He's still shaking though the swaying has now stopped. Clark can see Bruce trying to get his breathing under control as the man stares at him. Clark comes to another conclusion; Bruce likes to stare and analyze people, scrutinize them to the point of awkwardness and uneasiness. Suddenly, Bruce leans in close so his lips are against Clark's ear. He kisses and licks it then murmurs something that Clark can't make out even with his advanced hearing. Clark wonders how he managed that. Then Bruce is straightening out and beginning to move. There's something shining in his eyes, however, an emotion that is trying desperately to escape the wall Bruce put it behind, too far hidden for Clark to properly read it.

As Bruce continues to move, the sensations become more and more intense and though Clark wants to continue to look into Bruce's eyes, try and figure out what emotion he is trying to bury, he can't keep his eyes open any longer. He shuts his eyes and throws his head back, moans and shudders as Bruce speeds the pace up. Bruce moans too and Clark wants to see him, he wants to see him desperately, so he decides to cheat and use his x-ray vision to look through his eyelids.

Bruce is a picture of ecstasy. His eyes are shut with his own head thrown back in pleasure, one hand still on Clark's chest as the other strokes his cock in time with his bouncing. Gosh, the sight is enough to make Clark come.

The two of them only last a few minutes more before Bruce is tensing up again, shooting his load onto Clark's chest with a groan, and Clark coming into the condom with a muffled shout as he has his fist shoved against his mouth, biting onto his knuckles. Bruce collapses on top of him, sweaty and panting hard. Clark wonders if Bruce noticed he hadn't shed a drop of sweat this whole time but pushes the thought out of his head as he lies there panting as well, holding Bruce in his arms. Once they've caught their breath, Bruce sits up and reaches behind himself to hold the condom as he pulls off Clark. Clark tells him he'll take care of it and pulls the condom off, tying it, and throwing it away as Bruce crawls to the other side of the bed.

Clark hesitates then. Should he stay or should he go? Is he allowed to stay? Does Bruce _want_ him to stay? As if answering his thoughts, Bruce pats the bed and says, "You might as well stay as it's so late and all." Clark nods and crawls under the covers just like Bruce is. Bruce is on his back and starring up at the ceiling. Clark copies his position. They stay that way for a long time, just lying in the silence, and Clark is almost drifting to sleep when Bruce starts to talk. "Jason was just fifteen when he died." Clark, startled, looks over to him. "He was in trouble and I didn't get to him in time to save him. Because I failed, he died." Clark isn't sure what to say to that. Looking at Bruce now, he can see how sad Bruce really is and finally realizes what emotion Bruce was trying so hard to hide: his own sadness. "And now, a bunch of my employees are dead... because of Superman." The blow of guilt that hits Clark in the chest is almost unbearable. He looks away from the man, not being able to see him like that anymore. Instead, he looks at the ceiling, mirroring Bruce's position again. " _That's_ why I don't like Superman. The Joker killed one of my sons and Superman killed my employees." There's a pause and Clark is tempted to look over at Bruce but he doesn't. He actually feels like crying. "There's no getting over that."

Silence falls upon them again. Clark understands now why Bruce wanted to have sex with him. He's sure it still had to do with physical attraction, after all, Clark doesn't think Bruce would have called him cute and beautiful if he didn't find him attractive, but he also thinks it has to with Bruce wanting to forget, to forget how sad and angry he is if only for a little while. Clark should probably feel used but he doesn't somehow. He's still glad they had sex since there's no denying Clark is attracted to Bruce and, again, Clark is sure Bruce is attracted to him. He can live with the added layer of being used for something as long as there's still that initial attraction. Besides, he kind of feels like he deserves it.

"Maybe..." Clark starts and Bruce turns his head to look at him. Clark avoids eye contact. "Maybe Superman didn't mean too. Maybe it was his first fight ever and he was trying his best to save everyone and not let people die. Maybe he feels terrible about how many people got hurt and killed and maybe... maybe having killed Zod haunts him and will haunt him for the rest of his life because there might have been a different way to stop him that Superman neglected to see at the time. Maybe he's just so terribly sorry, just so sorry." Clark can feel the tears starting to form in his eyes and he tries to blink them away. "So sorry." He slips his hands under his glasses and covers his eyes with both of them, pressing them against his eyes to try and stop the tears.

He hears Bruce scoot closer to him and feels Bruce's hand wrapping around his wrist. "Clark?" He pulls at his wrist but Clark doesn't budge. "Clark what's wrong?"

Clark can't stop the tears from coming and it's extremely embarrassing. "I'm just so sorry, Bruce."

"For what?" He sounds confused. "For Superman?"

"For everything," he says.

"Clark." Bruce removes his glasses, places them on the side table. This is getting bad. At this rate, Bruce will figure out who he is. "Clark, you don't need to feel responsible for what Superman did. It's not your fault."

 _Yes it is! Oh gosh, yes it is!_ He wants to say it, to scream it, but he knows he can't, won't. He sniffles, taking a deep breath to calm himself, and reaches over with one hand to grab his glasses, the other still covering his eyes. He slips them back on and looks up at Bruce who is looking very concerned. "I'm sorry Bruce. I know, I'm just being stupid."

Bruce gives him a sympathetic smile, rubbing a hand down his face. "You're not being stupid. You're just... too caring it seems."

"You seem to care too," Clark says, sniffling again.

Bruce nods and rubs Clark's face again. "I do." He leans down and places a quick, chaste kiss to Clark's lips. "Let Superman answer for what he has done, not you."

Clark tries to smile as best he can, earning a small smile from Bruce. If only this man knew that Clark _was_ Superman. "I'll keep that in mind," he says because it's the only thing he can think to say.

Bruce kisses his cheek and lies back down, this time with his arm slung over Clark's chest. "Let's get some sleep. I'm tired."

Clark kisses his forehead and nuzzles his nose into his hair. "Okay."

Clark soon falls asleep with guilt in his chest but he's glad Bruce is by his side nonetheless. When he awakes, however, Bruce is gone and there is a note on the pillow. It tells him to take a shower and get something to eat if he wants. Though the note doesn't say it, he knows this will never happen again between the two.

As Clark sets the note back down, he notices something scrawled on the back. He flips the paper over and reads it, what is written making him smile wide. By the time he gets up to take a shower and then get something to eat, he already has the seven digit number of Bruce's phone number memorized along with the words "call me" that was written next to the numbers, rattling in his head. Maybe this and more will happen again after all.

 **A/N: Thanks for reading. :)**


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